I have a few random things that I get excited about, things that make everyone else think I’m crazy. One of these things is the concept of communes. I don’t mean communes in the hippy-dippy sense. More the idea of making good use of financial and talent/interest resources, and recapturing some of the joys of community that have sort of disappeared along with small, tight-woven groups.

This commune idea has been on my mind for several years, but lately there have been other things that have penetrated my consciousness. One is the way that Christians are perceived in the secular world. (I know, you’re thinking that my commune obsession isn’t likely to help that! But give me a chance to explain…)

At church last week, Brian played a video where a guy stopped random people on the street and played a little word association with them. “What do you think of when I say ‘Christian’?” and “What comes to mind when I say ‘Jesus’?” were two of the main ones. The answers were sadly predictable: “weird,” “judgmental,” and even “bad.”

This reaction from the secular world tells me a lot of things. One, Christians are really doing a lousy job of communicating the Gospel. I have this fantasy of people responding with “weird, but the nicest people I’ve ever met”. Which is my second point: it seems obvious that either the respondents don’t know any Christians, or the Christians they know aren’t really following Christ. Yes, that sounds a little harsh and judgmental, but it’s not really a judgment because it’s self-evident. If we were truly following Christ, the responses would be different.

I’ve also been reading lots of books that point out that most Christians don’t have non-believing friends. This is partly because it’s easier to be with “people like me,” partly because many just don’t encounter a lot of non-believers in daily life, and partly because of the “Christian ghetto” that everyone’s always talking about.

So what do all these things have to do with each other? Well, I was standing in the shower, and it hit me (isn’t the shower the location of all eureka moments?): what if we had a commune of sorts that solved some of the perception and relationship problems at the same time? A structure that actually makes it more likely that Christians would hang out with secular folks (rather than becoming even more of a Christian ghetto, as the commune idea might imply to some)?

Here’s what I’m thinking: an apartment building owned by a local church, in the general vicinity of the church. The intention would be to have about half to two-thirds of the apartments occupied by people involved in the church. The other half to one-third would be intentionally filled with secular people in the church’s target market (in my church, this is families; in other churches, this could be young singles, professionals, whatever).

Social and “felt need” interactions would be intentional and central to the success of this plan. For instance, with our target, this would mean things like child care, homework help, dinner get-togethers, and anything that would help a young family make connections and get a little less stressed. For this to work, it is essential that the church people step up and lead community interactions.

In my ideal world, this would accomplish a few things:

1. It would foster meaningful relationships between Christians and non-believers. Not “we’re here to convert you” relationships, but true friendships. This is essential if we’re ever going to overcome the stereotypes about Christians (and get down to doing the work Jesus told us to do, already!).
2. It would give us the opportunity to show God’s love to people in a way that matters. It’s good to tell people that Jesus loves them, but how about showing them through service that meets actual needs?
3. It would help us grow as Christians. This would happen both through fellowship with other church folks, and especially through actually following the Great Commission.
4. It would be fun and fulfilling! I think most people long for real community, and some of us find it in the Church, but still feel lonely most of the time.
5. It makes financial sense. We could pool our resources (both financial and in terms of talent and interests) to create a community that is more than the sum of its parts. For instance, maybe someone gets free rent in exchange for childcare or meal prep for the community, while others pay rent that benefits the community.

Is this the end-all, be-all solution? Of course not! There would be plenty of problems to solve (how do you get church people on board for such a big commitment? what happens if there’s tension in the church—or the apartment? how do you attract your target audience without making them feel like pawns?). But I think as an idea, it has a lot of potential.

I have no idea if this is something that anyone’s doing already, or if any church would get behind it, but it’s on my mind, something I’m passionate about, and I believe that it’s God that’s keeping it in my mind and heart. I’m not sure what He wants me to do with this idea (our church doesn’t have the resources at this point to make this happen); maybe I’m just suppose to throw it out there. Any thoughts? (Do you all think I’m nuts now?)

A little more about what I love about it:

• It’s all about making prayer intentional and trackable.  This is very much like a traditional prayer journal, but ideal for those of us who lose those under the bed but look at our homepage(s) every day.
• Aside from the prayer-journal-like-benefits (perspective, consistancy, etc.), the tech aspect of it adds extra features: sharing, communities, connection with others, and most importantly, a means for prayers to rise all over the globe, no matter where you are.
• They’ve really thought through the public/private aspect.  You can make a request private, public, or share with just a specific community or person.  This is very important to me, as I make most of my requests public, but there are some that need to be private for the protection of others.
• This may be just the kind of collaborative tool that our church needs.  We’re currently using a Yahoo! Group, but I’d love to migrate to People2Pray—and I think it will help most of our prayer warriors personally, too.

Is anyone interested in creating a community for shared requests?

Thinking about this mission trip has made me think about service, though. This morning I found myself praying, “God, ask anything of me and I will try to give it to you.” Of course, as I prayed this, I was thinking along the lines of grand mission trips and huge, life-altering sacrifices. But then it (finally) occurred to me… every week at The Experience, Ed and Cindy get up front and ask for volunteers for Random Acts of Kindness/Servant Evangelism. I pretty much ignore them—not because I don’t like them (they’re some of my favorite people!) but because I have no interest in the activities (I sometimes have some philosophical issues with them, but mostly I’m just lazy).

So, Hypocritical Sarah, how is that “giving anything” to God that He asks? Well, it’s not, really. Oops. Maybe God is waiting for me to be “faithful with a few things” before He gives me big things; maybe He doesn’t intend the big things for me at all. But I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to just sit around and pray for him to give me some amazing assignment.

How come it’s so much easier to offer God “everything” than “this one thing”?

This year, for me, was more like the first year. There were a lot more people, and less structure, but the topics and goals were somewhat similar. So was the broken up self I returned home with. I’m really not sure why the events that are amazing and uplifting for others are exhausting and distressing for me, but it sure seems that way some times. Actually, I do have some idea why that’s the case. It’s because the things that excite others are the things I lack and want.

This year we were talking about our “testiomonies” again. We did this the first year, too. Our testimonies are just stories, of course, stories of our relationship with God and how we’ve seen God. It was very cool because several people shared great stories—not just the ones you hear regularly about how someone had a horrible life, found God, and all is well, but also some where coping skills at work are transformed, or someone finds out that it’s okay to be human. But then it all makes me feel like a horrible fraud, too, because here I am, one of the core members of a new church, a firm believer in Christianity, and I am afraid I don’t know God at all.

At least I want to now. In some years past, I sort of theoretically wanted to know God, but there was no real desire. I think God’s given me the desire now, but I’m waiting (very impatiently) for Him to fulfill it. I feel (knowing that this is probably inaccurate) like I am waiting for God to show up, and He’s just not. This isn’t a crisis of faith or anything; I do not doubt God’s existence or even his love for me (in my head). I just want to experience Him, and yet, here I am, feeling lonely and alone.

I talked to my pastor about this, and he had some good insights. One is that I might be too comfortable. My heart needs to know why I need Christ, and I think in part, it’s learning. I am so terribly lonely when I let myself get serious about it. But Brian suggested that I might benefit from being involved in something big, something I can’t do. Not necessarily a big project, just something that is clearly beyond me (like mentoring someone with behavioral issues). Something that could only be done with God’s help, not as a works thing but as a way of seeing the reality around me. So I’m thinking on this.

I really think a lot of my problem is that I’m so busy with day-to-day junk (but who isn’t?!) that I’m losing focus. I’ve thought for a while of doing a personal spiritual retreat, and maybe that’s something that should happen. How do other people maintain focus? Anyone want to give me some insight here?

A very interesting article talking about the appeal of strictness:
The Power of the Mustard Seed – Why strict churches are strong. By Judith Shulevitz

Missed Church? Download It to Your IPod.

I thought this was a cool use of technology (though not, as the headline implies, as a replacement for church… my church is about a whole lot more than just the sermon). We’re almost set up to do this, actually, since Kaleb’s been recording and compressing the sermons.